


The Alphabet

by KasumiChou



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angel Wings, Angst, Character Death, Doctor/Patient, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Instagram, M/M, Mafia AU, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12848892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasumiChou/pseuds/KasumiChou
Summary: 26 letters. 26 words. 26 ficlets.26 stories with love, friendship and humour.





	1. A – Apple

**WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH MENTION IN CURRENT CHAPTER ONLY**  

“Good afternoon.”

Yuuri blinked once at the sudden greeting while slowly turning his head towards the door, a feeling of exhaustion taking over him by the simple movement.

A man stood in the doorway of the room, wearing simple black slacks and a white dress shirt that was half hidden by his doctor’s coat. He couldn’t quite age the man, not sure if the silver hair was actually, well, silver or if it was grey.

The main thing that caught his attention about the man was his eyes, that seemed to sparkle all knowingly.

“I’m Doctor Victor Nikiforov,” the man standing in the doorway, “Doctor Giacometti handed your case over to me.”

“He mentioned that he was handing my case to a better doctor,” he mumbled, earning a blink in surprise from the man.

“I don’t know if I would call myself better. Chris is the oncologist,” Doctor Nikiforov mumbled as he finally stepped into the room. The doctor walked directly to his bed, picking up one of the charts that was attached to the base of it.

“If you don’t specialise in cancer, what do you specialise in?” he questioned, earning a bright smile from the man as he pulled out a pen from his pocket – a bright pink pen that sparkled in the afternoon sun.

“I’m specialise in many things, but I currently specialise in cardiologist. I work with hearts,” Doctor Nikiforov told him, a soft smile on his lips.

He lay there in bed, watching the man closely as he began looking over all his vitals and began mumbling to himself.

He missed having energy, missed being able to hold whole conversations without feeling drained and tired.

As much as he missed walking, what he missed most was skating. He just wanted to slide across the ice once more. To feel in control of his body just once more.

He faded slowly into a light sleep to the sound of Doctor Nikiforov soft mumbles. Finding, for once, that it was rather easy to fall asleep for the first time in months.

* * *

“Doctor Nikiforov is a genius,” he glanced up from the puzzle in front of him. Phichit, his best friend and only real visitor, had been nice enough to gift him a Sudoku book to amuse himself with. It had been a nice thought and did give him plenty to do, though he only wished he didn’t get so tired from doing the simple puzzle.

“Is he?” he mumbled back to the red headed nurse who was updating his medication flow.

“Yeah, that don’t often pull him from his assigned area unless that need his brain. He has saved a lot of lives, you know. He’s a real genius, so I wouldn’t stress. I’m sure you’ll be out of here in no time because of Doctor Nikiforov,” the nurse - who he had some vague memory of being called Millie. No, that wasn’t it, it was something exotic, Mila maybe – ensured him, giving his shoulder a gently pat as she gently leant him forwards to fluff his pillows.

“Doubtful,” he replied, earning a dramatic sigh from the nurse.

“You aren’t dead yet, Yuuri, stop concluding your life is over,” Mila – he was really hoping that was her name – told him before moving to sign a few of the clipboards at the end of his bed, “Now, rest up, Doctor Nikiforov will be here later to see you.”

* * *

“Do you like apples?”

Yuuri sighed as he glanced up from his Sudoku book – after three days, he was finally on the fifth one – and gave his full attention to the doctor sitting beside his bed.

He didn’t understand Doctor Nikiforov – ‘Please, just call me Victor’. The man came to see him multiple times a day, and not all of his visits involves proper doctor-patient talks.

Sometimes – like now for example – Doctor Nikiforov would join him for what he could only assume was his lunch break.

“I guess?” he replied, frowning at the man that was meant to be his saviour.

Sure, there had been some small improvements since Doctor Nikiforov had taken over care for him. The main difference being that he didn’t feel as tired doing simple movements.

Doctor Nikiforov had explained that his tiredness had less to do with his illness and more to do with his medication, so a simple medication change had resulted in him feeling a lot more active.

“You guess?” Doctor Nikiforov questioned.

“I mean, that didn’t keep the doctors,” he replied with a shrug. The doctor stared at him with large eyes for a moment before chuckling to himself.

“That is the phrase, right?” he mumbled with a frown, hoping he hadn’t confused the saying.

“ _’An apple a day keeps the doctor away’_ ,” Doctor Nikiforov told him while holding a slide of apple out for him. He blinked at the offered piece of fruit for a moment before reaching out with trembling hands to take it.

“But if you had eaten too many apples, we wouldn’t have met,” Doctor Nikiforov pointed out, flashing him a bright smile. He ducked his head in embarrassment as he carefully nibbled on the apple slice given to him.

Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t eaten too many apples.

* * *

“Yuuri, I’ve got some good-”

He paused as he walked into the room, only to be me met with Mila.

“Good afternoon, Mila,” he greeted, doing a quick double check to make sure he was in the right room. He hadn’t taken a right turn had he?

“You aren’t in the wrong room,” Mila spoke up, as she leant over the bed to fluff a pillow on the empty bed.

“Oh, then where is-” he began to ask only to trail off at the smile that the red head sent his way.

“He passed last night. Organ failure,” the nurse explained as she stood up straight. He opened his mouth, only to go quiet as Mila turned to him a sad smile, a look he had never seen on her face before. Mila was one of their best nurses, mainly because she never grew too attached to the patients.

“It was very sudden,” Mila said, a forced smile on her lips. She took a shaky breath before straightening her scrubs.

“He must have had to many apples,” he mumbled to himself before letting out a weak chuckle as he turned his gaze to the ground.

“Victor,” Mila called out to him before something was shoved in his face, “His friend requested that I give this to you.” He blinked at the simple Sudoku book being held in his face. It was something he had seen Yuuri writing in multiple times.

“Thank you,” he said as he accepted the book. Mila quickly hurried passed him after that, muttering something about a patient to check up on. He stood there in the empty room, clutching a puzzle book, feeling for once in his life, at a loss.

Yuuri had only been his patient for a short amount of time, but he had enjoyed every moment they had spent together.

He gently flicked through the book before pausing as he noticed something written into the edges of some of the pages. He opened the book properly on one of the pages with writing, staring at the words written in clear English around the edge of the Sudoku.

_‘He has such pretty eyes’_

He turned to another page.

_‘His voice is so relaxing’_

He flipped further into the book, blinking at the name that was written multiple times.

_‘Victor Nikiforov & Yuuri Katsuki’_

He flipped to the end of the book, finding that the last three pages were empty of writing. The fourth last page hold a simple sentence, written in slightly shaky font.

_‘If never eating another apple meant I could see him every day, I would give them up in a heartbeat’_

A weak, wet laugh left his lips as he clutched the puzzle book to his chest.

As a doctor, he had known it was wrong to show interest in a patient.

But as a man, he had hoped to never see another apple in the room again.


	2. B - Bustling

It’s the highlight of his day.

The highlight of his poor pathetic day.

A poor pathetic day of serving coffee after coffee to people that won’t remember him.

The highlight was the stunning man that was always on the bustling five thirty-five train into the city.

He was always there. Every morning, Monday through Friday. Rain, hail or shine.

He was always dressed stunningly, no matter what he was wearing.

Some days it was suits. Other days it was jeans and a tee. And on the rare occasion, sweat pants and a baggy shirt.

He hated to admitted, but maybe he had an issue.

“What was he wearing today?” Phichit - his fellow workmate that manned the register while he manned the coffee machine during the week – asked almost as soon as he put on his apron upon arriving.

He ducked his head as he turned on the coffee machine and set to work getting everything he would need for the rush that always appeared as soon as they opened the door at six o’clock.

“A tailored suit,” he mumbled, ducking his head in a poor attempt to hid his blush. Phichit let out a deep sigh from behind him.

“Just do me a favour,” Phichit sighed, “For once in your life, do something brave. Talk to this ‘stunning man’.”

He turned to his workmate in shock, staring at him with wide eyes.

There was no way he was going to talk to the stunning man from the bustling five thirty-five train into the city, someone that handsome wouldn’t dare waste a moment on him.

He was just a barista at some generic coffee shops in the middle of the city, why would a man that owned tailored suits want anything to do with him?

“Just,” Phichit sighed, “Think about it, please!”

“Okay,” he mumbled, turning away from Phichit and focusing on the coffee machine in front of him. He should probably heat up a pot of milk before they opened the door, it would help with the morning rush.

Like every morning, people started flocking in the front door as soon as it was unlocked. Business men and women all demanding caffeine to help them through the early morning.

Mornings with Phichit were easy. Much better than his weekend morning shifts with the ‘other Yuri’ as Phichit had nicknamed the teen who only worked weekends.

It would have only been about six-thirty when the rhythm he had made for himself was broken by a single customer.

“Excuse me, barista?” a voice called out, startling him enough to accidentally knock his hand against the steam wand, burning his hand. He let out a hiss as he clutched his now sore hand before glancing up and over the coffee machine to lock eyes with the man that had called out to him.

“I seem to be missing something,” the man said while flashing him a charming smile.

He stared at the man for a moment, surprise written across his face. This wasn’t just any man! This was the stunning man from the bustling five thirty-five train into the city.

“P-pardon?” he squeaked, earning a delighted chuckle that sent shivers down his spine.

“I seem to be missing your number,” the man stated simply, throwing a wink towards him.

“Yuuri,” Phichit called out, “I need a double shot, soy cappuccino!”

He hummed, letting Phichit know he heard while pulling out his hardly used pen and quickly scribbling down his name and number down on to a napkin. After a moment of deliberation, he also added his break time before holding it over the coffee machine for the stunning man from the bustling five thirty-five train into the city.

He didn’t even need to prompt the man, who took the napkin with a wink. He ducked his head shyly, quickly getting back to work on the group of cups that had piled up while he was distracted.

By the time work had slowed down and he was able to have a break, he had the name and number of the stunning man from the bustling five thirty-five train into the city.

Oh, and a date.


	3. C - Colourful

“It rather… plain.”

Yuuri ducked his head, turning his full attention to his feet.

He had known that this would be a bad idea. Why had he let his best friend convince him to enter this stupid competition?

“Bland.”

“It lacks colour.”

“Are we looking at the same piece?” A fourth voice piped up, sounding bewildered. He slowly lifted his gaze, immediately catching the gaze of the youngest of the four judges.

Victor Nikiforov, a world-renowned sculptor who had won hundreds of awards for his work.

“Of course we are. Just look at the piece-” one of the other judges tried to argue, earning a huff from the sculptor.

“It is a gorgeous abstract piece. Are you seeing the angel? With its black and red wings, that clash so much with the white piece the figure is wearing. Are you seeing his one and only use of the colour blue draws your eyes immediately to the figures face, brightening up the dull setting the artist was clearly going for?” Victor Nikiforov huffed at his fellow judges before walking towards him and taking a hold of his head.

“Your artwork is stunning and so colourful,” the man said while shaking his hand. He merely stared at the man, completely speechless.

How could anyone respond when one of the world’s best artists had just complimented his work? When one of the world’s best artists was able to see the figure hidden among all the swirls of colour.

The small group of judges that had original complained at his work, moved close, inspecting his work up close before stepping make.

“Thank you,” one of them mumbled before the group left. Victor Nikiforov gave him an encouraging smile as he following the group, a smile that told him not to run away and wait around until they announced the winners.

“What’s with that look?”

He let out a squeak as a finger was jabbed into his side. He stumbled back a step, before finally noticing that it was only his best friend and photographer friend – Phichit Chulanont.

“Victor Nikiforov just called my art colourful,” he mumbled.

“And? Of course it is colourful. I watched you paint the damn thing. You used every colour in the rainbow and like a thousand more,” Phichit huffed as he began flicking through his phone.

“Victor Nikiforov!” he gushed, grabbing his best friends arm and shaking it.

“And is the number on the back of your hand Victor Nikiforov’s too?” Phichit asked, causing him to pause.

“Number?” he repeated, turning his hands around to look at the back of them both. As Phichit had pointed out, writing on the back of his right hand was a list of numbers, along with a heart.

He stared down at them in confusion before he let out a gasp.

Had Victor Nikiforov written down his number when they were shaking hands? Had it been when he was mentally screaming?

“Text it,” Phichit suggested, causing him to gasp.

“What? Why?” he questioned, looking at his friend with wide eyes.

“Because? They gave you their number?” Phichit replied, arching an eyebrow like it was the simplest thing to do.

“I couldn’t,” he stated quickly, shaking his head.

“If you don’t, I will,” Phichit said, pulling his phone out of nowhere. Last time he checked, his phone has gone missing a few days ago because he had misplaced it again.

“No!” he gasped, plucking the phone from Phichit’s hands and cradling it to his chest.

“Text it!” Phichit huffed.

He shyly pulled the phone away from his chest, carefully entering the number into the contact bar before pausing.

What was he going to say?

“I admire the way you sculpt penises,” Phichit suggested, causing him to gasp.

“Phichit!” he gasped in horror.

“Oh, sorry, asses,” Phichit corrected himself.

“PHICHIT!” he shouted in shock.

“It’s true!” Phichit said, shrugging his shoulders.

He shook his head as he typed in a simple massage, hoping that it wasn’t that boring.

_‘Thank you for what you said to the other judges’_

_‘Do you really admire how I sculpt penises?’_ was the immediate responses.

He blinked before glancing up, only to spoke Victor smirking at him from two bays down, where two of the other judges were arguing among themselves. He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he turned to his best friend who was still fiddling with his phone.

“I hate you,” he mumbled to Phichit.

“I think you mispronounced love. I did just get you a date,” Phichit stated simple.

“Date? What are you talking about?” he huffed. A moment later, his phone went off again with another message from Victor.

_‘Dinner tonight?’_

He stared down at his phone for a moment before turning to his best friend.

“I hope you drop your camera.”


	4. E - Eros

“How the hell do you always have money?”

He jolted in surprise, spinning around to see Yuri holding his wallet open and staring at the bundle of one dollar notes that resided in it.

He reached over and plucked his worn wallet from the boy’s hands.

“Do you want food or not?” he questioned as he shuffled forward as the line moved in front of him.

It still sometimes baffled him that Yuri, the boy that shared his name, willingly spent time with him.

They had meet through an extra credit class he had applied for. A class that had seemed easy enough on paper – tutor a high school student.

The whole thing may have been stressful, but in the end, he got a rather strange friendship out of it.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and like every Wednesday, they were in line at the local McDonalds for a tray of greasy food.

“I do, but seriously, it’s like you always have cash,” Yuri huffed, crossing his arms across his chest while shuffling up beside him.

“It’s called a job,” he pointed out, earning a raised eyebrow in response.

“My shithead of a brother has a job and is always complaining about how expensive college and stuff is,” Yuri told him. He shrugged his shoulders in response.

There was no way he was going to explain to Yuri why he always had money. It was embarrassing enough that his roommate knew about his job, he didn’t need anyone else finding out. Especially not a sixteen-year-old.

He let out a small smile as they finally made it to the front of the line. Yuri didn’t even hesitant to give the poor cashier his rather ridiculous order.

How someone like little Yuri was able to pack away twenty nuggets, a Big Mac, two cheeseburgers and a large fries was beyond him. But like always, he willingly paid for the massive meal that the small blond ordered, along with his own burger.

He thanked the cashier for their patience while shuffling to the side with Yuri to wait for their food.

“So, your work got any available positions?” Yuri asked, trying to look sly in his questioning. He felt the air get stuck in his throat, causing him to let out a rather violent cough.

He quickly covered his mouth, ducking his head in embarrassment as almost everyone in the store turned to him questionably.

“Um, n-no,” he mumbled after catching his breath, “You sort of need experience to get a job anyway.”

“What type of experience?” Yuri questioned, looking up at him curiously. He stared down at sixteen-year-old for a moment before shrugging his shoulder weekly.

“T-taxes.”

* * *

“Eros! You are on in five!”

He let out a small sigh as he checked his lipstick in the mirror before slowly rising to his feet.

He didn’t talk about it, mainly because it was embarrassing.

He was a stripper. He stripped while people threw money at him. Nothing he could write home to his parents about.

But there something about being on stage with everyone’s eyes on him, it set his heart racing.

He normally didn’t like people staring at him, but there something about being on stage in a pair of heels and a slutty outfit.

He had recently been promoted to the main stage, no longer classified as one of the smaller acts.

He got the big stage with the sturdy stripper pole. He had lots of fun using the pole since his promotion to the big stage.

He made it to the side of the stage as one of the other main acts stumbled off the stage, high on adrenaline with money dangling from the top of her panties.

“Eros! Lover boy is front and centre,” she giggled, patting his arm as she walked past.

He brightened up at the news. Lover boy was the nickname given to the handsome young man that always seemed to turn up for his performance and only his.

He was also drop dead gorgeous, which had something to do with the name and the extreme amount of teasing he got from his co-workers.

“Ladies and gentleman! It’s time to get those hearts racing with the one and only-”

He took a deep breath, pulling the feather shawl he was wearing a little tighter over himself.

“EROS!”

He bit down on his lips as the curtains opened up in front of him, the roaring crowd fading into the background.

His blue eyes stared at him like he was some sort of god that had hung the moon.

A shiver ran down his spine, finally forcing him to move to centre stage. He walked towards his pole, doing a small simple spin as he undid his shawl and threw it off to the side, revealing the gorgeous corset that had been gifted to him by an admirer.

An admirer that sat in front of him with wide eyes.

His lover boy had given him a gift, a gift he planned to use to give the best show of his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the lovely [ gurlnextd00r ](https://gurlnextd00r.tumblr.com) for being my beta for the chapter!


	5. F – Fall

 

There was nothing but pain.

Pain that left his head throbbing.

There was wetness that slowly escaped him.

And then there were the gems of the ocean.

Gems hold in the eyes of a man.

Gems that held no fear, simply concern.

Gems that appeared in front of him in a simple blink.

Then there were hands that slowly lifted him up.

Arms that cradled him close as the pain grew stronger at the movement.

“Everything will be okay,” the man with the eyes of the ocean told him as the pain finally took over.

Drawing him into unconsciousness.

* * *

He jolted awake, founding himself flying on his stomach, propped up by a collection of soft pillows.

Heart pounding in his chest and pain aching through his whole body.

Everything ached, from his toes to the tips of this wings.

He attempted to push himself upright only for his arms to give out under the weight of his own body.

So, his punishment had been to fall.

Fall into the world of men where only death awaited him.

Fallen did not live long in the world of men.

Some died from the fall.

Other died from the hands of men.

But he lay here awake, neither dead from the fall or the hands of men.

“Your awake,” a voice said gently, quickly drawing his attention to over his shoulder.

A man stood there, something clutched in his hand.

But the object in the man’s hand was forgotten when he caught sight of the man’s eyes.

Eyes like gems of the ocean.

“You,” he mumbled, finally noticing how dry his throat was.

The man walked towards him, holding the object clutched in his hand out of him. He simply stared at it in confusion for a moment before the human rose his other hand to the top of the object, breaking it open.

“Drink,” the man insisted. He attempted to grab the object, but finding no strength in his hands to grasp it.

The man let out a thoughtful hum before he moved to sit beside him, carefully moving the object to his mouth.

As soon as the object touched his mouth, he felt it.

Water. He opened his mouth, welcoming the water to help quench his thirst.

He barely noticed until the human drew his hand away that he had finished most of the water held in the man’s strange container.

“Rest,” the man said softly before drawing away, leaving him by himself yet again.

He lay there, staring as best he could in the direction the man had gone before exhaustion took him again, drawing him into the soft pillows that he laid upon.

* * *

The man’s name was Victor.

For a man, he was nothing but kind.

Always touching him with the gentlest of touches and speaking to him in a soft tone.

He found himself drawn to the man, wanting nothing more to be closer to him the stronger he got.

The fall had almost killed him. Leaving him with tattered wings, broken bones and a large wound on his side.

He couldn’t be sure, but he vaguely remembered crashing into a rock or something hard while falling.

The glance down at the beast Victor called Makkachin, a loyal beast that had been the one to found him in his time of need.

The beast became his protector, staying with him when Victor was unable to.

Makakchin had joined him in his morning sunbathing, lying beside him with its head in his lap.

He was unable to stop himself from running his hands through the beast’s hair, getting lost in its locks as he sunned himself.

“Angel.” He perked up at the name the man called him, glancing over his shoulder to see Victor and another man, a man he recognised as Christophe, Victor’s friend and a man that specialised in the care of breasts like Makkachin.

“My, my, you look much better than the last time we met,” Christophe greeted as the pair slowly approached him and Makkachin.

He smiled softly as he glanced between the pair for a moment before tilting his head to the side, hoping the pair could pick up on his confusion.

“I just came to check on your wings,” Christophe explained, causing him to brighten up.

Christophe looked after beasts, which also included beings with wings.

While Victor looked after humans, and could help fix his body, Victor did not know how to fix his broken wings, which is where Christophe came in.

He uncurled his wing, being extremely careful as he spread them out.

The first time he had been allowed to spread his wings, he had knocked the pair over in his haste.

Men did not have wings. They didn’t understand the want and need to spread them, to exercise them.

He shivered as he felt Christophe’s hands gently running along the top of his wings.

“How is your pain?” Victor asked, holding a hand out for him, something which he quickly grabbed.

“Bearable,” he hummed as he gently nuzzled into Victor’s hand, smiling to himself.

“It’s been two months, I would hope the pain was slowly going away,” Christophe piped up while tugging on a feather.

He let out a squawked of surprise, shifting his wings away from the man.

“Sorry, sorry,” Christophe said, seeming to laugh under his breath. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the man who only smiled at him.

“I was making sure the feeling had returned. Last time I did that test, you didn’t feel a thing,” Christophe explained while holding his hands up in defeat. He eyed the mans for a moment before slowly lowering his wings again.

“It’s okay, Angel, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” Victor ensured him, squeezing his hand. He glanced up, immediately locking eyes with the gems of the ocean that the man possessed.

He couldn’t help but nod his head in agreement, something he was unable to stop himself from doing when Victor told him something.

He trusted Victor, would do anything for Victor.

Victor was his now. He would let no harm came upon this man.

Until the dirt took him.

He would not leave Victor’s side.

Not even if heaven opened its doors for him again.

Victor had saved him from almost certain death.

So, until death truly took him, he would spend every breath protecting the man who held the gems of the ocean.


	6. G – Glamour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the lovely [ gurlnextd00r ](https://gurlnextd00r.tumblr.com) for being my beta for the chapter!

“You what?” Yuuri Katsuki questioned his manager with a baffled look.

“You heard me,” Phichit Chulanont, said manager, replied with one of his overly-bright smiles.

He had a photoshoot – something that was normally fine. He didn’t mind photoshoots, didn’t mind sitting around as every inch of him was crafted to perfection for a simple fifteen-minute photoshoot. But what he was afraid of was the head photographer of the shoot, Victor Nikiforov.

Mister Nikiforov was the head photographer of Glamour, a popular world-wide magazine.

Mister Nikiforov was well known to be ruthless about getting the perfect shot and if someone didn’t work well with him, don’t expect to see another picture of them in Glamour again.

“ _ Me? _ ” he squeaked, pointing a finger back at himself.

“Yuuri,” Phichit sighed, “You were nominated for an Oscar.”

“Nominated! I have no chance of winning,” he replied, shaking his head, “That still doesn’t explain why Glamour wants to do an article on me!”

“A Japanese man got nominated for an Oscar.  _ You _ got nominated for an Oscar, that’s why,” Phichit said while grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly, “Yuuri, this is not the time to doubt yourself.”

He took a deep breath before ever so gently taking Phichit’s hands off his shoulders, “Okay,” he mumbled quietly with a nod of his head.

The room was silent for a moment as he stood trying to wrap his head around everything while his manager stood there patiently.

“When?” he mumbled after a few minutes, running a hand through his hair and pushing it out of his face.

“Friday,” Phichit cheered.

“PHICHIT!” he gasped, staring at his manager, “IT’S WEDNESDAY!”

* * *

Yuuri stood by the window in the room the photoshoot was organised for. If he could give the famous photographer anything, it was his ability to pick stunning settings for his shoot.

They had already been there a few hours, getting his hair and makeup down and making sure that the outfits picked for the shoot fit him perfectly.

Phichit accepted nothing but the best for him.

Everything had to be perfect, from the right shadow of foundation to how tight his suit had to be. He honestly didn’t really care, no matter how good the photos were, they would be photoshopped in the end.

He jolted in surprise as he felt something push against his side, dragging his gaze from the stunning slow setting sun to the beautiful brown eyes of a gorgeous poodle.

“Well, hello there,” he cooed while reaching down to gently pat the poodle. One pat turned into two and before he knew it, he was lying on the ground with the poodle between his lap while he pet the dog.

It wasn’t until there was a sudden flash that he remembered where he was. His head shot up and he locked eyes with the most stunning pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.

“Stay right there,” the man muttered, voice tickled with what he assumed was a Russian accent, “Turn your head to the side slightly. Like you are looking out the window, yes.” The flash went off a couple more times and he was only drawn out of his directed pose by the poodle whining in his lap.

“Hey,” he cooed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against the dog’s forehead. The rest of his sentence faded from his mind as he pulled away, only to realise he had left a bright red lipstick stain on the poodle’s forehead. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him as he stared down at the dog in front of him.

The flash went off a couple more times before the man behind the camera mumbled something that caught the dog’s attention. He glanced towards the camera, only for the flash to blind him as it went off a couple more times.

“Okay,” the gorgeous man said, “Five-minute break, I want the sun to set a bit more before we continue.”

He sat there as the small crowd he hadn’t realised had accumulated seemed to disperse at the man’s command.

“I apologise for not warning you but you looked so gorgeous right then,” the man said while approaching him and holding his hand out, “Victor Nikiforov, I’ll be your photographer.”

Almost on command, the poodle in his lap let out a whine.

“Ah, how rude of me, this lovely lady is Makkachin and I think she disapproves of you not patting her.” He jumped and turned back to the poodle, whispering an apology as he returned to patting the poodle.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he stammered, turning a shy smile towards Victor Nikiforov.

Why had no one ever warned him about how attractive Mister Nikiforov was?

And more importantly, why didn’t he know if the gorgeous man in front of him, with the lovely poodle in his lap, was single?


	7. I – Instagram

“THEY POSTED ANOTHER PICTURE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”

Guang-Hong shouted while barging into the apartment he shared with his best friend, Yuuri.

He sat on the couch, laptop in his lap, blinking towards the younger male who was basically jumping up and down in excitement.

“Who?” Yuuri’s voice echoed from the kitchen where he was wiping up dinner, sounding just as confused as he felt.

“Sorry about him,” a voice spoke up from behind Guang-Hong before revealing themselves as Leo - Guang-Hong boyfriend and another friend of his. He waved as he set his laptop to the side, giving the house invades his full attention.

“Hey Leo,” he greeted, throwing a smile as Guang-Hong bounced over to him.

“Guys! This is serious!” Guang-Hong whined, pouting at him, “They posted another picture.”

He arched an eyebrow at the pout in his face, glancing around the Chinese cuties to see Leo shrugged in response.

“Yes, yes,” Yuuri said as he walked into the room, “We heard you. Who posted a picture?”

“Them! The Traveling Lovebirds!” Guang-Hong gushed while holding up his phone to reveal an Instagram page. After a moment of struggling to read it while Guang-Hong buzzed in excitement, he grabbed the phone to get a better look. He felt Yuuri move up behind him to look at the picture too.

The Instagram page was called ‘Traveling Lovebirds’ as Guang-Hong had stated before, the photo on the screen was a picture of a pale man with messy black hair, dressed rather sharply in a white dress shirt, grey vest and black slacks, his back facing towards the camera. The centre point of the picture was the tanned arm that appeared at the bottom on the screen, that clutched tightly onto the male man’s hand, like his life depended on it. The background of the picture was a stunning waterfall. The capture at the button of the photo was rather simple ‘#followmeto the Iguazu waterfalls in Brazil’

“Oh, the ‘Follow me to’ couple,” Yuuri said, nodding his head as he handed Guang-Hong his phone back, “What I wouldn’t do for someone to take me around the world and take photos of me?” Yuuri sighed.

“You hate pictures,” he pointed out, earning a smack up the back of his head in responses. He whined while rubbing his head, shooting a glare to his best friend and roommate.

“I’m sure Victor would if you asked,” Leo pointed out, clearly trying to turn the subject away from him. He bit back a smile at the squeak that left Yuuri, who quickly began shaking his head and waving his hands out in front of him.

“No, no, no. I couldn’t drag Victor away from his work! Especially not for my silly little desire to travel the world. Maybe one day,” the Japanese man said before excusing himself, mumbling something about food under his breath.

With Yuuri gone from the room, it left him with Guang-Hong’s full attention.

“You’ve seen them! Haven’t you, Phichit?” Guang-Hong asked, perching himself on the arm of the couch to stare at him with large eyes.

“Of course, who hasn’t seen them?” he asked, forcing a laugh.

Of course he had seen the photos before, he had taken them.

It had started off as a simple joke to torment his boyfriend, and it just evolved into his most successful Instagram account with millions upon millions of followers, all of them expressing desires of traveling the world with their loved one.

He was very lucky. Not only for having a beautiful boyfriend that could deal with all his crap, but a boyfriend that travelled for work.

His boyfriend was a traveling reporter, always on the brink of bring something new and exciting to search with the world. And because of his need to find something new, he was unable to stay still for more than two weeks before he got antsy.

Most of the time they spent together was spent aboard. Exploring the world that most people only wished they could explore.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to receive tickets to some faraway place at any moment with barely a day’s notice with nothing else but a heart in the email - his boyfriend wasn’t good with words to begin with, so the heart way enough.

He jumped in surprise as his laptop suddenly let out a familiar tone, informing him that he had an email. He quickly scooped his laptop up, laying it in his lap and opened up the email that held nothing but a heart and a ticket. He stared at the ticket for a moment before smiling to himself. It seemed that the next picture in the ‘Follow me to’ page would be in France. Maybe he could get it with the Eiffel Tower.

“What is with that smile?” Leo questioned as he quickly shut the email before anyone could peek.

“It seems I have another trip planned,” he explained, earning eye rolls from the pair in the room.

“Lucky you,” Leo huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Take me with you,” Guang-Hong whined, lunging towards him. He laughed as he jumped to his feet, dodging the smaller male while running from the room with laptop in hand.

“Never!” he shouted over his shoulder.

He felt a little bad about not telling his friends about his secret Instagram account.

But it was their own fault for not recognising his boyfriend to begin with.

Seung-gil was a one of a kind person to begin with.

A one of a kind person that he hoped to one day marry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter inspired by [this stunning instagram account](https://www.instagram.com/p/rur2Bamsz_/)


	8. K – Karma

“I do believe this is karma, darling.”

Victor snorted in response. Karma, what a silly little thing to blame his situation on.

It hadn’t been karma, it had been bad luck that saw him caught by the local yakuza for dealing in their land.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the man cooed, running a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at his captive.

He hated to admitted it but he was a rather pretty man to look at.

Gorgeous brown eyes, that seemed to burn with desire.

Hair as black as midnight that was slicked back, leaving his full face in view.

Lips so red that all he wanted to do was drag them into a searing kiss.

Curse his little gay heart.

“You should have stayed in Russia,” the man said, rubbing his cheeks as a smirk grew across his perfect lips.

“But then we wouldn’t have had the chance to meet?” he replied, earning a bright laugh from the man.

“Such a charmer,” his captive cooed, running a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The man let out a sigh before leaning forwards, pressing those perfect lips against the shell of his ear. “If only you weren’t the enemy, I could have had a lot of fun with you.”

A shiver ran down his spine as the words, causing him to tug on the handcuffs that held his hands together.

“But, alas, you are the enemy and I’ve been ordered to kill you,” the man sighed as he pulled away, standing up straight in front of him again.

“Karma, huh,” he replied, earning another bright laugh from the man.

“Yes, yes. Karma. It never does give us good things, does it?” the man stated, smirking down at him.

“May I know the gorgeous man’s name that is about to kill me?” he asked, earning himself a hum as the man grabbed his face and tilted it until they were looking at each other.

“Yuuri,” the man said softly, almost like he was revealing a heavily hidden secret.

“Victor,” he responded.

The man, Yuuri, stared at him for a moment before leaning down and pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. A kiss that didn’t represent the man he had been interacting with at all.

“Curse karma,” Yuuri sighed while letting him go and pulling a gun out from his side.

“Curse karma,” he agreed as he closed his eyes, waiting for his inevitable death.


	9. P - Pirozkhi & Potya

“Potya, no.”

He felt like he was on repeat as he gently waved his princess away from the cooling katsudon.

It was his anniversary with Otabek. The celebration of their first year together.

It had been a rather hard year, not that he would admit that to anyone.

He never realised just how hard being in love was. Especially when you were in love with someone who lived, what felt like a world away.

But despite the pain, the annoyance, the sadness - they made it.

They made it through the year without breaking up – something he really shouldn’t be surprised about but always was.

He glanced towards his katsudon again, only to spot Potya trying again to reach over to knock one off the bench.

“Potya! No!” he shouted again, carefully grabbing the tray of cooling katsudon and moving it across the bench.

“Everything has to be perfect, Potya, and what is more perfect than pirozhki?” he asked his princess who blinked at him.

“Exactly,” he said as he began rolling out the pirozhki dough flat, “Katsudon pirozhki!”

Potya let out a meow.

“Your right, grandpa’s katsudon pirozhki are the best but mine will have to do,” he sighed.

Potya let out a meow of agreement. He chuckled to himself as he turned his attention back to the dough he was flattening.

“Yeah, Potya, I hope Otabek likes them too,” he mumbled softly to himself.


	10. R – Raindrop

“Makkachin? Makka? Where are you?” he called out as he hunted through the house for his poodle.

It had been raining for what felt likes weeks – but in reality, had only been three days. With everything being so wet, cold and overall grey, all he wanted to do after finishing work was go home to cuddle with poodle in bed.

The only issue was his gorgeous poodle was currently missing from her rightful spot in bed.

“Makkachin?” he called out as he stepped into the lounge room, only to let out a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the poodle.

“Makka, what are you doing?” he asked as he moved closer, nodding that the dog was staring out the front window rather intensely.

He frowned as he followed the dogs gaze out the window, squinting to try and figure out what had caught his dogs attention. After a moment of searching through the rain, he noticed an unfamiliar shape a little way down the street.

He stared at the figure for a moment before gasping. He hurried towards the front door, slipping on the first pair of shoes he found before grabbing a spare jacket and an umbrella. He stumbled over Makkachin who had finally moved from the front door and was now standing in front of him and the front door.

“No, Makka, stay,” he commanded the poodle, pushing the dog out of the way as he opened the door and hurried out into the rain. He opened the umbrella as he hurried towards the figure a little down the street.

As he grew closer, his suspicions were confirmed. The closer he got, the clear the figure got until he was standing beside the figure who was actually a man. A man sitting in the gutter, completely soaking wet from the rain.

“Are you okay? You must be freeze!” he gushed, kneeling down to wrap the jacket he had brought around the man

The man slowly turned his head to look at him, a confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?” the man asked weakly. He blinked at the question before smiling gently down at the man.

“Helping my dog from stressing,” he told him simply before offering his hand out to the man, “My house is a few houses down. Why don’t we dry you off and put something warm in you before you catch a cold?”

“No,” the man stated simply, his hands curling around the edge of the jacket as he turned his head away, “I deserve to get sick.”

“Hey,” he mumbled softly, moving his free hand to rub the man’s back, “No one deserves to get sick.”

“I do,” the man mumbled, “I deserve worse than just sick.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked, watching as the man shoved his feet further into the gutter, allowing the water running towards the storm drain to drench his shoes.

“Because he died,” the man all but whispered. The words were so soft that he almost missed them with the sound of rain falling around them.

“Who?” he asked, continuing to rub the man’s back.

“Vicchan,” the man sobbed, curling in on himself, “M-my dog.”

“Oh,” he mumbled softly.

“I should have been there. I could have stopped it,” the man continued, clearly heartbroken. He glanced around them, watching the rain fall for a moment before making a decision. He reached around to grab one of the stranger’s hands. He stood up, pulling the man to his feet as he did so.

“Let me go,” the man protested, trying to pull his hand away.

“Please,” he said softly, causing the man to pause, “It’s raining, it’s cold, and my dog won’t stop staring at your through the window.”

“What?” the man mumbled, looking at him in confusion.

“You don’t deserve to be sick or anything else. You deserve comfort and love, especially after losing a pet. So, you are coming home with me. My dog will cuddle you and cover you in kisses. I will feed you a warm meal, and when the rain stops or tomorrow – whichever comes first – I’ll drive you home, okay?” he told the man.

They stared at each other for a moment, simply standing underneath an umbrella as rain fell all around them.

“Okay,” the man mumbled weakly, slowly nodding his head. He smiled as he gave the man’s hand a gentle squeeze before pulling him towards his house where he was sure there was an excited poodle waiting for them.

* * *

“How did you two meet?”

He glanced towards Otabek – his little brother’s boyfriend.

“Pardon?” he questioned.

“I asked how you meet your fiancé?” Otabek repeated, he chuckled softly as he glanced to the side, easily spotting his beautiful fiancé who was currently absorbed in a conversation with his little brother. He smiled to himself as Yuuri let out a laugh, a laugh that seemed to please his little brother if the grin on his face was anything to go by.

“I stumbled across him in the rain,” he mumbled, turning back to the teen with a smile on his lips.

“Really?” Otabek said, frowning in confusion.

“Yes, it was rather romantic. It was like the gods were pointing Yuuri out to me, purposely dropping all their raindrops onto him so I would notice,” he sighed dramatically.

“Yo, old man, what rubbish are you spewing?” his little brother – strangely enough also called Yuri – called out while approaching them and positioning himself by his boyfriend’s side.

“I asked about how he meet Yuuri,” Otabek spoke up.

“Oh dear,” his beautiful fiancé mumbled, magically appearing at his side. He smiled as he grabbed a hold of Yuuri’s hand, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss against the ring that tied them together.

“They meet in the rain,” Yuri huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“He mentioned that,” Otabek confirmed.

“Please ignore everything he said. I’m sure he was just making up stuff, he does that,” Yuuri said, laughing softly.

“I would never make up stuff,” he gasped, “Especially when it involves you, my love.”

Yuuri turned to him, a smile on his lips before chuckling and shaking his head.

“Whatever you say dear,” Yuuri told him before leaning up on his tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek. He couldn’t help but smile and press another kiss against Yuuri’s engagement ring.

He had done a lot more than just stumble across Yuuri that night, he had saved him and given him love.

Love which Yuuri was more than happy to return.


	11. Y – Young

Yuuri had met Victor once before their meeting at the Grand Prix Finals.

A very long time ago when becoming an international figure skater was still a dream rather than a reality.

He never mentioned it, mainly because he didn’t know how to bring it up.

How was one meant to bring up one of the most embarrassing moments in one life in a casual conversation?

It had been years ago, when he was barely thirteen. He had been invited to watch NHK Trophy, having been successful in entering the junior Japanese league for the upcoming year.

And Victor had been there. Had been competing in Japan, still only a junior skater with long, flowing hair.

It sounded strange, but he remembered exactly how Victor had looked that day.

He hadn’t been wearing anything special when they had met, simple sweater branded with his country. Big bold letters spelt out Russia, running along every available surface. But it hadn’t been his outfit that had stood out that day, but rather his hair.

Long silver hair, done in the fanciest braids with little flowers weaved between silky locks.

Even know, so many years since the event of the day of their first official meeting, he still felt embarrassed at what had slipped from his lips when he had accidentally run into the man, then teen.

At barely thirteen with a very minimal understanding of English, he had blurted out how Victor looked like a fairy prince in his childish English.

He had stood there only a moment before realising he had spoken out loud and fleeing the scene.

Even after all these years, he still felt embarrassed at his random declaration.

What was even more embarrassing with the chuckle that had followed after him as he fled.

But that had been a long time ago, when both were younger than they were now.

And maybe it was better that Victor never realised, or had forgotten about the random Japanese boy that had called him a fairy prince.

Because it was hard enough dealing with the events of his drunk banquet, he didn’t want Victor teasing him about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the lovely [ gurlnextd00r ](https://gurlnextd00r.tumblr.com) for being my beta for the chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://kasumi-chou.tumblr.com/post/167861444250/kasumi-chou-im-going-to-do-a-little-project-and) for a list of all the letters to come!


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